


Dragon Age Drabble Collection

by Roswell_the_crow



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Multiple Pairings, One Shot Collection, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:13:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roswell_the_crow/pseuds/Roswell_the_crow
Summary: A random collection of Dragon Age Drabbles I write. (They were previously on wattpad.) I use my ocs for this and I obviously don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters.





	1. Hickeys (Zevran x m!warden)

They had been together in Rasdheas' tent once again. Both elves really need a proper night's sleep, but they'd rather have these moments alone. Sometimes they talked and laughed, or stayed up late practicing combat techniques, or just fucked. Unfortunately, it was a friends with benefits deal, but it meant he had an outlet (besides killing darkspawn and bandits) for stress and restless energy. Tonight, it was sex.

 

It had been an uneventful day. The party of four had walked around Denerim gathering information. Zev, as per usual, had been a relentless flirt, complete with a bickering Morrigan and oblivious Alistair; and it aggravated Ras to no end. It was bad enough he was treated as a pageboy by nobles and criminals alike when he should be preparing for the blight. He couldn't wait until they set up camp for the night. They figured that the others know about their little thing, considering they've never tried for subtlety. Morrigan has questioned him about it, so there's that.

 

That time was different than the ones before. It was like something had shifted. There was a certain... tenderness put behind each action. Honestly, it threw him off a little. Lips were pressed well, everywhere, but a lot more marks were left behind. There's always some hickeys on his body, scratches too, but never anywhere too noticeable. Waking up and checking his appearance the next morning, he saw it. There were two painful looking hickeys on the pale skin of his throat. Ras shrugged and pulled the top of his hair into a bun, making a mental note to touch up his undercut later. There was also dark bags under his eyes that were visible. 

 

He was still half asleep when he made his way out of his tent for breakfast. It was Sten's turn to cook, thankfully, and he was ravenously hungry. He sat down between Zev and Alistair to wait, striking up a conversation with the former about possible Crow attacks. After a few minutes, to his other side, a shocked voice was heard.

"What happened to your neck? That looks like it hurts." Alistair asked. Ras snuck a glance at Zevran, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"It doesn't actually, but thanks for asking." was all he replied with. By then they had gotten Morrigan's attention, who rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't tell me how you managed some pretty nasty bruising. I mean, we haven't been in any fights recently. Have we?" Morrigan decided to end his confusion.

"We haven't. Of course, that does not mean that others haven't participated in certain activities." He only ended up more confused, furrowing his eyebrows and scrunching his face.

"Activities? Like what?" Zev apparently had gotten tired of the conversation.

"Like sex. I assumed you were... inexperienced, but not this naive." he deadpanned.

"Who did you bed to leave that?" Alistair sounded like he genuinely didn't know, though Ras didn't understand how.

 

The food was ready, so he got up to grab some.

"Who do you think?" was all he said. Morrigan spoke up again.

"Are you really unaware of all the lustful glances between him and Zevran? You must also sleep like the dead then because they're never quiet." Rasdheas had the decency to look sheepish at that, but the other elf looked smug.

"Zevran? Why him, why not Morrigan?" Alistair spluttered. Zevran tried to jump in, knowing that that was a touchy question to ask the warden.

"Why not? You have seen my rugged good looks, and my hands aren't only good for picking locks." he joked. Ras acted as if Zev had said nothing and fixed a lethal glare on the other grey warden.

"Are you saying that because he's an assassin, or that I prefer a man's company?" The tone he used caused everyone to pause, and Alistair looked frightened.

"No, 'course not...I- it was just a question, considering he tried to kill us, and-" he was cut off again.

"Because everyone else hasn't?" He was no longer angry, only annoyed. Alex started eating his food, which had gone slightly cold, in silence. It was like walking on eggshells for the rest of breakfast.

 

Afterward, when everyone was packing up, Zev pulled the other aside for a moment.

"Are you okay? You told me about... You do know that Alistair's just looking out for you, yes? Others are getting a lot better with these things, so just give them a chance. Besides," he smirked, leaned in to nibble the pointed tip of Rasdheas' ear, and whispered, "They don't know how much it turns you on, the idea that I could kill you at any moment."

"Fenhedis, I... shut up." was the only words he could get out with a shudder. Zevran moved down slightly to focus his mouth on his neck again, before walking back to help deconstruct the camp. He calmed his pulse and red face before following.


	2. Gone (Dorian-centric Pavellan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor was dead and Dorian was left to pick up the pieces of his heart alone. He did always say he was going to break his heart, didn't he? Inspired by Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Dorian had woken up to sunlight streaming through the windows. It worsened his already agonizing headache, as he was hungover. Nothing new, of course, since he hasn't been sober since the... incident. It hurt to think at all, let alone the grief that stole the breath from his lungs. He took in his surroundings and realized he wasn't in his own room. With a sudden jolt, he remembered stumbling up the steps to the Inquisitor's quarters. Well, what used to be his quarters.

 

He desperately needed to remember that Talonian Lavellan was gone. His heart had stopped, the anchor finally killing him. Tal had hidden how bad it had gotten and refused help until everything was over with. Dorian had seen how much pain he'd been in; when he thinks no one is looking and drops his easy grin. How he had kept his arm to his side unless absolutely necessary, and kept his glove on even when asleep. He should've said something, done something, and because he didn't Tal was dead. The one man he truly loved, fully trusted, was gone because he didn't speak up. Dorian's stomach churns with guilt and nausea.

 

Slowly standing up, he makes his way across in search of a bucket. There was always one because of Talonian's penchant for strange sicknesses and in turn the consequences of the Tevinter's drinking habits. He froze, seeing a cup on the windowsill. It was Tal's favorite cup, a ceramic one painted a deep green, that he always drank tea out of. How hasn't he noticed it yet? It's been about a week? Two? Maybe longer, since he isn't able to judge time accurately in his state. Dorian stared at it before deciding to leave it to sit as is. He doesn't want to move it from the last time Tal used it.

 

He realized he would eventually have to go through the late Inquisitor's belongings. The others left that part to him since there was no living family and everyone knew of their relationship. It was too painful as of yet, though; the wound too fresh. For now, he was content to numb the pain with alcohol until he bled out. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was a crooked smile on his dark skin and shining turquoise eyes. He could see the lines of the vallaslin etched into his flesh. The pattern was memorized long ago. Dark strands of hair braided back but always falling in his face.

 

Dorian found the tin bucket and carried it back with him. He laid back down on Talonian's bed and tried to fight the next wave of vomit. His stomach was no better after he thought about how he would never hear the elf's laugh again; a chuckle full of mirth. He'll never smell the eternal scent of petrichor surrounding him. Dorian wondered subconsciously if he could drink himself to death the way he's going. As if to spite that thought, his stomach settled and he stumbled downstairs to find another bottle. He drank a very potent concoction yesterday and searched for more of the same. Drink, grieve, rinse, repeat. It all seemed a little too familiar, but he didn't have half a mind to care.


	3. Literate (Dorian x M!Inquisitor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talonian gets a letter from an old acquaintance, but he can't read. Dorian is there so he's persuaded to read it aloud. It brings up an interesting point- who has caught the Inquisitor's eye?

"Dorian, could you read this to me while I look for something?" the Inquisitor asked, placing a rolled piece of parchment on the desk and sifting through a drawer's contents. Talonian was in his room and the Tevinter had made a visit.

"A letter? Are you sure you don't want to read it in private?" He asked in response.

"Please? Besides, it's not like it's going to be private. Who do you think I-Wait." The movement of shuffling through small items comes to a halt. His back was to him, so Dorian wasn't able to see his face. "Does it have a signature?"

"Now you've piqued my interest. A past love, perhaps?" He picks up the small piece of parchment and unrolls it. "Yes, it does. Do you know a Maria Lakes?" Talonian's head whips around quick enough to give him whiplash.

"Maria Lakes?" he repeats warily, the inflection rising at the end to make it a question.

"It seems we've hit a nerve." Tal turns back to the drawer and continues looking.

"What does it say?" He gives the Dalish elf a look before beginning to read. It was as follows:

To the now-Inquisitor Talonian Lavellan,

Hello again... what was it you always called me? Vhenan? It's been a while since we last talked, five years to be exact. I'm doing well, and I suppose you are too. I hear you're the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste now. I find it a little ironic that a Dalish is the Herald of the Maker's prophet. I have to wonder though, did you ever find someone? I hear-tell of a Tevinter mage, or was it an Antivan ambassador? Everyone tells it differently but it doesn't matter. I just hope they are deserving of you and they make you happy. I Know we were young and naive, and both at fault, but I was thinking if we could be friends again; simple like before. Either way, write me back and send it to Highever. I live in the Copper District if you're ever in the area.

Much love, Maria Lakes

 

Through the duration of the letter, Talonian had found what he was looking for but listened intently to the words. He practically flinched when Dorian read the endearment. "How did she remember that?" he wondered, not aloud of course. He also couldn't quite decide how Dorian would react to the letter since he hit the nail on the head with that guess. Talonian didn't really have a choice; he couldn't read or write common tongue.

"Why must you do this, Maria?" he mumbled, ears twitching in irritation, before turning to the mage who immediately questioned him.

"So it is a past love after all. Who is she?"

"I was usually sent into shemlen villages to trade for goods. We had stopped near the Free Marches once, and she, quite literally, ran into me. As she said in the letter, that was a long time ago." Tal smiled, remembering that hectic day and the following time together.

 

Talonian sighed at the next point he brought up. "What did she mean a mage or ambassador? I thought rumors didn't usually leave town." Dorian had a look Tal couldn't even attempt to place.

"Apparently they can't make up their mind between a foray with your advisor or with the evil 'vint. Unless you are with Josephine?" He raised his eyebrows at him almost comically.

"By the Dread Wolf, how do I get myself in these conversations? She's beautiful and kind and smart, but we're friends."

"So you're not together yet."

"That is nowhere near what I said, but for your information, she's not who I want," Tal said petulantly.

"I'm curious as to who caught the Inquisitor's eye. Care to tell?"

 

Talonian's ears twitched again but in embarrassment this time.

"If I give you a hint, will you promise not to tell anyone about that letter?" a nod. "Okay. You get one question, which I answer honestly. It can't be who, though."

"It isn't Montilyet." He thinks for a moment longer. "I suppose it's Vivienne, or Bull maybe. Is it either of them?" The Inquisitor shook his head no.

"That was your question, and I'm going to dinner." he stepped out of his own quarters before he said too much. The item, which was a small wooden figure, was in hand as he left. Dorian later found the same figure on a table in his own room. It was a coiled snake, perhaps bought from a merchant. He knew Tal was too clumsy to make something like that himself, but he appreciated it nonetheless.


	4. Stories (No pairing?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rasdheas loves telling anecdotes of his life. The Dalish way was to tell stories, after all. Leliana often listens, and is interested when Ras talks about his first encounter with a wolf. As the title suggests, it was written with no pairing, but can be interpreted as leliwarden.

Setting up camp as always, Rasdheas talked almost constantly to fill the busy silence. Nobody seemed to mind, probably grateful for some distraction, but it's not always the best timing. This time it was, though regardless he has not often gotten responses. He knows he shouldn't tell anything personal, and for the most part, nothing has slipped. Except for the comment about Tamlen and Merrill he made to Zevran. When he started retelling a story, it was quickly decided which one.

 

Ras was thirteen winters old when he encountered his first wolf. He mentally prepared the start of the story before speaking.

"When I was younger, when I first became a hunter, I got separated from the older ones once." he started "We were in a forest out west, and I was so excited. Since I couldn't take down bigger game, I was told to gather roots and watch the others. I saw a cluster of embrium, and wandered off a ways." he paused, the memory of the incident flooding him, the old fear emerging.

"What happened?" Leliana asked, encouraging him to continue. Did she really listen to his tales? He forgets she was a bard.

"As I went to gather it, there was a huge snarl coming from behind me. I was too distracted to hear what was undoubtedly a loud approach. I didn't freeze, but I cautiously turned around. The sound was coming from a large wolf; it must have been at least half the size of a bear." Ras could vividly see in his mind the charcoal colored fur, flanks tinged with blood, and the sharp yellow teeth. "I was terrified, but I remembered what the hahren and adult hunters said. You were to dip your head, a sign of submission, and carefully step backward. In my haste to move away, it decided to lunge at me. I wasn't quick enough to avoid it and it snapped at my thigh."

 

A quiet gasp of shock left Leliana's mouth. She was no longer positioning the canvas of her tent but looking intently at Ras. A look around told him they were the only ones still unfinished. He felt the need to laugh, but he was inwardly pleased that someone appreciated his anecdotes. He continued on.

"Thank the Creators that by then the rest noticed my disappearance. If Danaan hadn't have nocked an arrow and shot it into its eye, it would have gone for my throat next. As it was, I had gouges in my leg that had to be patched up. Marethari and Ashalle teamed up to lecture and punish me for that mistake." Ras gave a chuckle. "Tamlen said the scar made me look dangerous, but I think he was just trying to cheer me up."

"Is it still visible?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, give me a moment," he said and pushed the Dalish armor slightly away from his legs. It was just out of sight and stood out against his skin. Being on the side, he turned his leg slightly and pointed at it. "See? You can still see both sets of teeth." The scars hadn't faded because they were such deep punctures.

"Well, I am very glad you survived to tell it now," Leliana responded.

"I am too, da'assan. Thank you for listening, but I'll let you get back to work." He said.

"It is no problem, I love stories. If you'd like to hear any of mine, just ask," she said and began work.


	5. Want (Zevwarden)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran and Rasdheas finally get a room and much needed privacy. Zev worries that Ras doesn't want him anymore, but the only issue is that stupid oath.

Rasdheas was unexpectedly happy at the prospect of staying in an actual room. If not for sleeping in a bed, then for privacy not allowed by a tent. Alistair should be relieved; Ras swears List's brain melted when he caught them fucking. The Dalish warden zoned out when the others were discussing sleeping arrangements, but was brought back when the Antivan inconspicuously pulled him to their room.

 

The two were barely in the door before it was shut and locked. Their bags were haphazardly tossed to the side. Zev connected their lips and Ras reciprocated eagerly. Rather than deepening the kiss, the former pulled away. Ras stopped himself from trailing after.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked carefully.

"I have noticed that I am always the one to initiate these situations. You respond in kind, but you never seek me out. Do you... truly wish to continue? I will not be mad if you are no longer interested." Ras didn't understand how he could possibly think that. His heart sank when he realized how it probably looked, regardless of the fact he would always want him.

"Don't ever doubt my interest in you. I would never string you along like that, lath." He stepped forward and kissed the other's neck "Ma ane ma'enlea."

"You haven't taught me that phrase, amor," Zev said, almost sounding like he was thrown off-kilter. Ras went a little redder and ducked his face back closer to his neck.

"You'll laugh at me," Ras mumbled.

"It can't be that bad. What is it?"

"Ma ane ma'enlea. It means 'you are my light'. Now, are we going to take advantage of this bed or not?"

 

Zevran's eyes widened, but if Ras wasn't used to looking for it would have been missed. Then he chuckled, ostensibly to cover his reaction up.

"If you are saying that to an assassin, then maybe Leliana should check for head injuries. Maybe later we can continue this." He stepped back, but Ras grabbed his arm without thinking. Zevran looked back in surprise, and he quickly let go.

"I... sorry. I just, um, you can go," he stuttered out. Zev frowned more than a little.

"It's been forever since we've so much as disrobed in the same vicinity. If you want me then why won't you come to me, mi querido?" he asked "I thought you'd break before now," he said, quieter.

"I was really hoping you'd drop the subject for the moment," he sighed. Zevran's eyes flashed with something akin to anger.

"And why is that, Ras?"

"I don't want you to take my reasoning the wrong way, ma'nehn."

"Then how are you so sure there is a right way?"

 

Ras Mahariel was quiet a moment, trying to sift his thoughts into words. Zevran was still glaring at him. This is one of the times I wish I could lie well, he thought bemusedly.

"I wait for you to initiate things because I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me no," he said finally.

"I have told you no about plenty of things, or do you not remember how I handled my feelings?" Ras laughed, the tension easing a little.

"I remember being ready to throw myself at the Archdemon for fear of it being my fault," he said, only slightly joking. He turned serious again. "This is about your oath you insisted on, Zevran. You felt like you had to keep yourself useful- trust me, I know that feeling- and I'd hate for you to resent me because of equating that to this." The Antivan elf was no longer glaring, but he looked stern.

"And yet you didn't tell me of this concern rather than letting me make assumptions. That would have been much easier, yes?" Ras was sheepish and turned his face away to look at the wall.

"I realize that now, thank you," he said.

 

Zevran looked amused at Ras' petulant action, but grabbed his chin and gently turned his head. He gave him a chaste kiss.

"Now the question is, how are you going to make it up to me?" he purred.


	6. Shameless (Mahariel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rasdheas Mahariel has no concept of privacy. He was Dalish. Zevran sends Alistair to deliver a message and he gets an eyeful. This isn't pairing related, but zevran x warden is mentioned. This is really just a peek into his personality and background for the lolz.

The camp had a decent amount of conversation going. They had just set up everything and, for the moment, everyone was lounging. Rasdheas had taken a chance to bathe during the peace, so him and his hound, Jules, were at the river. He had finshed washing his hair, making a mental note to cut it, when he heard rustling. He was a little ways from camp, so he had kept his daggers with him. The Dalish elf grabbed the as he crept out of the water an behind a tree. When the footsteps, he now placed the sound, came close enough he whirled outwards and had one blade pressed to a neck.   
"Maker!" a male voice said in a very unmanly manner.   
"Alistair? Fenhedis, you scared me!" he said as he dropped his arm and stepped back.

Before Ras had a chance to inquire why he was here, the other grey warden yelped and covered his eyes. His face was beet red.   
"List?" he questioned before realization dawned. "I know I'm not that bad looking," he drawled. Alistair uncovered his face.  
"No, you're very good looking- Wait! I mean, I don't..." he sighed, and Ras was sure that if he wasn't determinedly looking only at the elf's face, he would've hung his head. He laughed fully.  
"I was teasing you, but thank you for the compliment." he commented as he dropped his daggers and leaned nonchalantly on the tree. "So, did you come here to watch me bathe or what? You don't have a change of clothes with you." Alistair went back to stuttering, the color not leaving his face.   
"No, I- Zevran, he told me to relay a message." When he didn't elaborate, Ras gave him a nudge.   
"Well?"  
"For the love of Andraste, can you put some clothes on? How are you not embarrassed?"

Rasdheas rolled his eyes and smirked. Shouldn't he also be used to this? He was in an army.  
"I was raised in a close-knit clan, List. I've never had a bit of privacy in all my 22 winters. Tell me what Zev said and you can go back to camp."  
"He said it was your turn to cook dinner and he wants that pair of pants back. He said you knew what ones he was talking about." Why couldn't he have been told when he got back? It occurred to him that Zevran would torment Alistair, knowing how both of them was when it came to nudity.   
"Tell him if he takes them he'll regret it. That's the only pair of good pants I have; I lived in a forest for fuck's sake," Ras said and turned back to the river.


	7. Mirrors (Mahariel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rasdheas thought he was over what happened. Since the incident that killed Tamlen, he hasn't been able to touch a mirror. It takes giving an important gift to Morrigan to get him to confront it.

Rasdheas was returning to camp from Orzammar. It wasn't pleasant, but he was just getting started there. In his opinion, neither candidate was fit to rule, but he needed an army and Bhelen seemed a little more tolerable. Morrigan, Sten, Zevran, and him didn't want to stay in Orzammar while doing these inane tasks. Their camp was in the Frostbacks, however. After no less than five complaints of the cold from Zevran, Mahariel was finally in his tent. 

He had stepped in to grab something after dinner, but abandoned it to sift through his pack instead. He had forgotten about the bauble he'd inconspicuously bought. It was a gold, jewel encrusted hand mirror that looked like the one Morrigan described. He still didn't agree with why her mother had smashed it. Ras had been looking for a new dagger since one of his was ruined when he had spotted it. It was embarrassing how long it took him to touch it. It's just a mirror, not that blighted Eluvian, he had told himself. Tamlen, Falon'Din guide you, I'm sorry. He pulled the object out and hid it in his pocket. 

Everyone was conversing since there wasn't anymore food to be eaten, and Morrigan had long since moved back to her own setup. Ras made his way over.  
"Da'daurnatha," he called out loud enough for her to hear him. She responded without thinking to the nickname.  
"I do not know why you insist on whatever foolish term you call me. You also have yet to tell me what it means," she told him. He grinned.  
"It means "little viper". You are deadly but lash out more in defense." she tried to respond with a no doubt scathing remark but he cut her off. "I have a gift for you." He pulled the mirror out and held it out, carefully avoiding the reflective surface. 

Morrigan inhaled sharply as recognition flashed in her golden eyes. She took the mirror.  
"Tis just like the one Flemeth smashed on the ground so long ago. It is odd how you found one so like it." she paused for a moment. "Surely you must want something in return." Ras shook his head. Why are all of his companions so wary of receiving gifts? His smile softened.  
"I thought of you when I saw it. It's a gift da'daurnatha."  
"You say that like I should be accustomed to such things." She snaps in a caustic tone. Speaking of lashing out...  
"Ir abelas, I know. We're friends, or at least I consider you as such. I hope you can see me as one as well. Goodnight," he said sincerely before retreating to his tent.


	8. Lovely Moments (Zevran x Warden)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is like three snapshots of moments. They're just cute ones with Ras and Zev. He's stressed, okay? He needs it. In the last one I think you can feel my dislike for Alistair, sorry.

They were well on their way to the Brecilian Forest, which was more than nerve-wracking for Rasdheas. That was the last place he had seen his clan before he was conscripted. The Dalish warden still felt guilty because of what happened to Tamlen and missed him and Merrill so much. He won't see them again, the clan had moved on, but there is another one often in the area. 

As they were walking, he had struck up an odd conversation with Sten about duty. It wasn't unpleasant, and he quite liked speaking to the Qunari because his differing views gave Ras something to think about. After it had trailed off, Rasdheas caught up to Zevran. He had gotten closer to the assassin, and their relationship went from casual sex to actual involvement. Ras hooked his pinky finger in Zev's, a constant touch but not fully holding hands. Even that small contact seemed to ease his heart rate a little.  
_  
Let it be said that Rasdheas Mahariel hated shemlen nobles. If he didn't need Redcliffe's knights he wouldn't have suffered Bann Teagan. The man expected too much from two junior Grey Wardens, but then again, didn't everyone? If Arl Eamon wasn't on his deathbed there would be hell to pay. Him and his current companions were preparing the town's minutemen to fight the horde of undead. Ras had found some flowers for da'assan- Leliana. Andraste's Grace, which reminded her of her mother. The Dalish elf was ashamed to say that the word brought a bitter taste to his tongue. As annoying as List is, he bought him an ale when he talked to the bartender about serving drinks.

Ras couldn't stay however and he was soon back to the Chantry. He was already sick of being anywhere Andrastian, especially since he followed the Elven gods. Zevran had tagged along, though he was too stressed to speak with him much. After holy-such-and-such called him a heathen and whatever else she could think of, he stomped off. Zevran quickly grabbed Ras by the waist and hugged him, pressing the slightest kiss to his temple. He stiffened in shock- they were in the middle of a chantry. Old instincts to hide from his clan came back.  
"Relax, amor. I feel that they'll care more about a dagger under the ribs of their Revered Mother than a couple of maricons." At that Ras let the tension bleed from his shoulders. He mumbled something inaudible and reluctantly pulled away.  
_  
It was morning, maybe an hour before they had to break camp. Almost everyone was up, either by the bright sunlight or delicious scent wafting through. When Morrigan finished cooking, all of the companions sat down to eat. It was some sort of stew, made from wild hare and whatever vegetables were scavenged or bought. Unlike List's, it is one of the most appetizing of the group's. Once everyone was done, though not ready to get to work, a few conversations started. Ras had been sitting next to the Antivan, and had his head resting on his shoulder. He would raise his head every now and then to kiss his cheek or nuzzle his nose under Zev's jaw. He was mostly content to take a breather and just listen to the group and the forest. 

That is, until List had to shove his foot in his mouth and spoke up.  
"Can you two do that somewhere else?" Ras' eyes flashed dangerously, but only Leliana noticed.  
"I don't think that's necessary, it's actually quite ador-"  
"Thank you, da'assan, but I can handle this." Ras cut her off, speaking as politely as he can. At this point Zev had put a hand on his arm, though it was helping little.  
"Don't think I won't cut you down like any other shemlen." Ras's voice had hardened, pure venom in his tone that easily overpowered Morrigan's. "I have had to hide from my clan, now hide from the chantry. Fen'Harel be damned if I can't be happy before my bones are used as darkspawn chew toys. My life has been a wreck since that fucking mirror, and I am going to make the most of it even if I have to end yours." Ras went quiet after that last harsh statement, but soon spoke up again. "Da'daurnatha?" he asked politely, and Morrigan sighed resignedly.  
"Yes Rasdheas?"  
"Freeze his mouth shut. I would also turn a blind eye if you decided to freeze other regions as well." She laughed at that, and it wasn't decided if that made the group more or less nervous. Needless to say, the other Warden was a little chilled.


	9. War Room (mentioned Josie x M!Inquisitor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talonian Lavellan can't stand Cullen in the slightest. (There'll be more into this when I finish this other thing.) He leaves in order to calm down and runs into Dorian. The conversation is interesting.

Talonian was in the war room in Haven for perhaps the third time in the past few days. Cullen was arguing on the behalf of the templars, why they supposedly would be the better choice. Tal had already notified Josephine of Felix and Dorian's involvement. Cassandra was there, Leliana probably already knew, and he wasn't going to be the one to tell Cullen. He hoped Cassandra would, to be completely honest. Varric was right when he said she was scary. Talonian had long since stopped listening to the Commander, letting him get it out of his system before he rebuked it. So he sat, kicking his legs slightly and studying the map of Orlais, trying not to stare at Josie.   
"Are you listening to a word I'm saying, Lavellan?" he asked him.  
"You want me to imprison a hundred innocent people after I've extended support as an ally." he replied curtly. Leliana gave a subtle nod, but added nothing.   
"Alexius is awaiting judgement, but what about a plan for closing the Breach? We must do that as soon as possible. We have most of the troops secured, right Cullen?" Josephine implored. She was right, they needed to begin further work on that, but Tal needed to head to the Fallow Mire before then. He was relieved that she took Cullen's attention off of him though. 

He looked very ready to yell, but that would have been a horrible issue. He rolled his eyes slightly and turned to her.  
"Yes we do, though I suggest that with the addition of tem-"  
"They won't work with us because of the mages. I've already had the confirmation of that." Leliana told him.  
"And if we rescind the offer, we will look weak at best, tyrannical at worst." Josephine quieted the discussion with that. Tal frowned. Cullen wasn't letting it go easily. He felt guilty for leaving Josie to deal with that, but he didn't want to be in the room when it escalated. He'd only make it worse otherwise. Talonian excused himself with a polite goodbye to Josie and Leliana and made his way through the oak door. 

For lack of anywhere better, he walked to the apothecary shop. It was quiet, other than Adan's occasional grumble, and he could work on learning poisons. His room in Haven wouldn't be a safe place at the moment, that he knew. What he didn't expect was being stopped by Dorian on the way over.   
"Talonian." He grabbed his attention, almost scaring him to death in the process. "I can call you that, yes?"  
"It's much better than 'Herald'. What do you need?"  
"I thought you were speaking to your advisors, and I know at least one of them can be long-winded." Tal tilted his head in confusion. When he didn't answer, Dorian sighed in annoyance. "I mean, why are you out of there so soon?"   
"Cullen, he, I- Josie, fenhedis!" he let out a harsh exhale. "I wish Josie could just sum things up after the meeting. I can't make a fool of myself and live it down." 

Dorian raised an eyebrow when Tal said that, but rather than make a snarky comment, he asked him to elaborate.   
"I can't handle people yelling at me, but that's all Cullen wants to do. I don't know why, Josie seems to understand it, but I don't," he said, twisting the rings on his hand. He was frustrated with himself already, and trying to word it was difficult. "It's usually not too bad if I'm in a fight, then I can focus on something else, but when he does it I break down." Dorian didn't say anything, mostly for lack of a proper response. After a pause Tal grinned at him, eager to change the subject.  
"Ir abelas, did you need something?" he asked.   
"I just wondered what you had been up to," he said.

Talonian practically lit up at that. He grinned wider, showing off dimples and white teeth. His hands were kept to his sides, but just barely. It was like he couldn't possibly stay still.  
"Oh! I've been studying different snakes in Fereldan. My clan would use their venom when bandits attacked, and I was looking to acquire some. It wasn't used often, since we mostly hunted, and poisoned meat is no good-" he stopped himself. "I don't think that was what you were asking, was it?" Dorian chuckled. The supposed Herald of Andraste was odd.   
"Yes, but also no. I was wondering if you've heard any rumors?" he asked. The original question was made in the hopes of getting a confirmation the easy way. Tal looked confused again and his smile faltered.   
"Rumors? What about?" he asked. Dorian tutted mockingly.   
"You would think one would be mindful of his reputation. Some say that you and one of your advisors are... close. As in more than friends." he said carefully, watching for a reaction.  
"Who? I'm not... It's not like that with anyone."  
"Not even Montilyet?" 

Dorian could see the moment it registered. Talonian froze in his movements, only for a second, before he continued as if nothing was said. So it's true, he thought. Dorian couldn't figure out why that bothered him.  
"Josephine? We're friends. Just friends." Tal could feel the disappointment at his own words curl into his chest. The other could probably hear it in his tone as well. She was kind, intelligent, and beautiful. He sighed. "Listen, I think Krem started the rumor, but he was just surprised I'm not a total twink. You can imagine the embarrassment when I had to ask Bull what that was." Dorian lost it for a moment, laughing at Tal's expense. Yes, he could imagine that, and the prospect was hilarious to him.  
"I would say I feel bad for laughing, but that'd be a lie. I don't imagine you'd know a lot of human slang being Dalish." 

Tal only begrudged him for a moment, but then turned to a more serious question.  
"Dorian, my point is, can you keep the rumors low? Say whatever about me, but don't drag Josie into it."  
"Fine. Of course Talonian, I'll do what I can. That means I can win a bet with Sera, however." Tal was curious about that. A bet? He couldn't resist asking.  
"What bet did you two have?"  
"Just on which way you swing," he supplied.   
"What?"  
"If the Herald liked guys or girls," Dorian explained, having already forgotten the issue with slang. Talonian wrinkled his nose.   
"Why does it matter?" he asked this time. "Both, if you must know."


End file.
